Chapter 12: Heir's Lair

Draco woke up come morning using Harry's shoulder as a pillow. The sky remained dark outside, and rain pattered against the windows and roof. Draco's arm hurt from laying in the same position for too long.

Harry inhaled deeply as Draco shifted. He muttered something in which all Draco caught was, ". . .doin'?"

"Rolling over."

Harry made a small noise, and Draco thought that was the end of it. Once Draco had settled facing the window, Harry stretched hard enough behind him for a couple joints to pop. The mattress groaned, and then Harry's beard scratched against Draco's upper back. The warmth of his body followed along the full length of it.

Draco dozed back off for a little while. It still rained when he roused again. He could tell from the way Harry breathed that he too was awake. They remained in the same position, although Harry's arm draped over Draco's middle now. Draco ran his fingertips down Harry's forearm. When their hands met, they toyed with each other's fingers.

"What time is it?" Draco asked.

"Just past eight."

Draco exhaled through his nose in disappointment. "I suppose we ought to get a move on."

"We have a few minutes." Harry nuzzled Draco's shoulder with his cheek.

"Not as many as I would like."

Air spurted against Draco's skin as Harry snorted. When Draco turned his head, it resulted in him taking a kiss to the cheek.

He tried to hide how thoroughly he melted. "You are positively saccharine."

"And you love it, wanker."

Draco certainly went about making breakfast with a new sort of motivation once he made it to the kitchen. That followed him through showering and getting ready to head up to Hogwarts. He and Harry left the cabin underneath a pair of umbrellas at half-nine.

"Well," Harry said as they navigated the muddy path. "You don't seem to be panicking yet."

"I'm fine," Draco replied. "More glum than anything."

"Glum? Why?"

"Regardless of whatever happens after your Obliviation, I'm going to miss what we've been allowed to have here." Draco had started thinking about it in the shower. "It's not often I get to be so open about what I do."

"Who says you can't talk to me about your work?" Harry asked. "All Theta's note said is I'm to be Obliviated and my journal audited. There's nothing specifically stopping you from telling me anything—not about us, and not about time or dimensional travel. Is it really that confidential?"

"The Department certainly doesn't flaunt they have access to it, let alone use it on a regular basis."

"What about the principles, though? I'm pretty sure even Muggles know that much. Maybe they can't do it, but they know it's theoretically possible. I'm being Obliviated so that I don't know the how of it all—not the what. Wouldn't you say so?"

Draco pursed his lips in thought and hummed.

"You work in Law Enforcement long enough, you learn about loopholes," Harry kept on. "I guess there's nothing stopping Theta from telling you to keep your mouth zipped, but I'm still going to know everything prior to when Kingsley's Obliviation takes me back to. You're an Unspeakable. Ron and Yaxley fell out of our universe. You knew how to get them back. Maybe I won't explicitly know where or when we visited, but I'll know there was some sort of travel involved. It's not like this is my first time time-travelling, either."

"It's not?"

Smugness crept into Harry's grin. "Hermione had a Time Turner in third year so she could take every subject."

Draco scoffed. "Of course she did."

"You didn't know that?"

"No," Draco said. "Why would I?"

"I dunno, I guess because you do a lot with them."

"Who's allowed to have one is up to administration," Draco replied. "I'd say this is unbelievable, but it's Granger, so. . ."

Harry laughed. "The point I'm trying to make is that I already knew it was possible. It's not exactly something that gets me all tied up in knots whenever I think about the capabilities of it. Well, that would require I really thought about those in the first place."

"And here I thought you found it all as interesting as I do," Draco lamented.

"It's different, coming from your mouth."

"I think you just like my mouth."

"Well—yes."

Their laughter faded into comfortable silence. God, Draco had missed that.

The castle gates were unlocked for them. Sheets of rain hung like veils in the sky in all directions. It came down harder as Draco and Harry headed up the drive, seeming to have compelled all students inside for the day. That was the most likely source of quiet, but a definite hush existed. Considering the Chamber of Secrets was currently open—not that anyone yet knew that as the cause of the attacks—the hush felt more like tense fear.

"I'm getting flashbacks to second year," Harry spoke.

"Not me," Draco replied. "I had been quite pleased with how everything was going."

"Young and stupid."

"Oh, yes. Case in point."

Out the corner of Draco's eye, he could see Harry smiling while shaking his head. There was probably an eye roll in there for good measure.

The front door opened, and Armando Dippet stepped out in a set of blue and bronze robes. He remained out of the rain's reach as he watched Draco and Harry approach.

"Good morning," he greeted them in a feeble voice that seemed to die against the static of rain pelting stone. "Do come in out of the cold."

Draco banished his umbrella, then cast some Drying Charms on himself. The last thing to go was the mud he had tracked in on his boots.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Dippet extended a wrinkly hand fit with several rings to Draco. "If you don't mind me saying so, you're much younger than I anticipated. I didn't recognize your names as having ever attended here."

"We attended Ilvermorny together," Draco recited the new cover story. "We transferred to Britain back in '38."

"Ah." Dippet managed a tight smile that quickly vanished. "You picked a rather terrible time to come to Europe, unfortunately. All of this business with Grindelwald has been—and the Muggles are faring no better among themselves."

"We rarely see any of that," Draco replied. "The Department of Mysteries is very isolated from outside influence."

"I'm aware of that, which is what made me curious why these attacks garnered your attention." Dippet started walking them toward the marble staircase. "Just because a concerned parent requested a consultation does not mean the Department of Mysteries would be compelled to answer."

"It hasn't been explicitly stated as such, but my impression was attempt to avoid the Ministry at large," Draco said. "Unspeakables by nature are much more privy to discretion."

"I do appreciate discretion," Dippet replied. "The Petrifications will be resolved, but that's not the problem at hand. If the source of the attacks is not sorted—and soon—I will have no choice but to close the school. I do not care to do that. This castle has had open doors for nearly a thousand years."

"Could you run us through what's happened to date?" Harry asked. "And could you show us where the attacks have occurred?"

"Yes." Dippet gestured them left at the top of the staircase. "There have been four."

He gave them a rundown on the attacks as they climbed another set of stairs. They neared the swivelling staircase overlooking the eastern courtyard as someone came down to the bottom of it. It was Dumbledore.

"Ah," Dippet said under his breath. "All is well, I trust, Albus?"

"As well as can be," Dumbledore said as they all came to a stop with each other. He looked over Draco and Harry, taking in their uniforms. "These must be the Unspeakables you mentioned would be coming."

"We've only just arrived." Draco stepped forward with a hand extended. "Jules Winnfield."

"Albus Dumbledore."

"Your reputation precedes you, of course." Draco smirked before forcing himself back to seriousness as Harry took Dumbledore's hand next. "The castle is quiet for a rainy Saturday. I would expect to see the students running about in attempt to entertain themselves."

"The corridors aren't exactly a place to freely wander right now," Dumbledore spoke. "The most recent attack was only a week ago. Everyone is rather frightened. The students are sticking close to their common rooms when classes are not in session."

"Have you any working theories on the cause of the attacks?" Harry asked, looking between them. "Surely you must have something."

"Rather embarrassingly, no," Dippet said, although Dumbledore's lips twitched ever so slightly. "If we did, the attacks would have been put to a stop by now."

"Do you believe a student to be responsible, or something else?" Harry spoke in his Auror tone. "Petrification is a strange condition. Is the fact that all four attacks happened on Muggle-born students potentially significant?"

"We've discussed that possibility." Dippet shifted on his feet with a glance at Dumbledore and light clear of the throat. "This school has a rather unfortunate history with discrimination against Muggle-borns, dating back to its founding. I've been alive long enough to see the wax and wane of it throughout general Magical Britain. It comes and goes in lockstep with periods of strife. My best guess is that something in all of that has bled into the castle. Considering the attacks have all been on Muggle-borns, I highly doubt it's a Muggle-born responsible. As for someone perhaps working on behalf of Grindelwald, or paying him homage. . ."

"I don't personally believe that," Dumbledore said.

"No?" Harry asked with such innocent curiosity that Draco almost smiled.

"Grindelwald has a certain. . ." Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, "signature."

"You must be familiar with him," Harry replied. "Although, I suppose anyone paying attention to current events would be."

As much enjoyment Draco derived from seeing Harry make Dumbledore uncomfortable, he steered them back on topic. "You said Hogwarts has an extensive history with Muggle-born discrimination?"

"Yes." Dippet nodded. "One of its founders was rather against their attendance."

Dumbledore dipped his head with a smile. "I ought to carry on my patrol."

"Oh—of course, Albus."

Dippet led Draco and Harry along to the nearest site of attack. Throughout showing the rest, he told them about Salazar Slytherin's falling-out with the other school founders. They found themselves in the dungeons at the end of the tour. One of the victims had been found down there after visiting Slughorn for some extra Potions help.

"Who found her?" Harry asked.

"Ah, that would be one of our prefects, Tom Riddle," Dippet said. "He was doing a patrol at the time."

"Have you spoken to him critically regarding the incident?" Harry replied. "And what about Slughorn?"

"Horace was aghast." Dippet bowed his head. "He still hasn't quite come back from the incident, I'm afraid. He's very quiet in the staff room, which isn't like him at all."

"And this Riddle?" Draco asked.

"He didn't really react, but that's not particularly unusual for him. He's had a difficult life, and is quite a stoic boy. Not much fazes him."

Draco looked up and down the corridor, feigning searching for something. "Would he happen to be around? Perhaps speaking to a student regarding the attacks would offer some sort of enlightenment."

"I imagine he would be in the Slytherin common room." Dippet started them moving again. "Do you believe a student knows something, but hasn't said? Even if one did, the last person I would suspect is Tom. He has every reason not to want Hogwarts to close."

"He might know something, but be unaware of it," Harry said. "He's a prefect, and he does patrols. He may have seen something that to him seemed perfectly ordinary."

Dippet accepted this reasoning without further question. They found Slughorn for the password, then doubled back for the Slytherin common room. Draco fell slightly behind Dippet and nudged Harry. When Harry looked at him, Draco tapped himself on the chest a few times. Harry gave a single nod.

As soon as the wall hiding the common room slid open, the castle's mood completely changed. The students chatted and laughed as if nothing larger beyond their lives transpired within Hogwarts. Torches lit the long room up, and all fireplaces big and small roared away.

Dippet hummed while peering around, then started purposefully toward the large fireplace down at the very end. "There he is."

Sure enough, and he wasn't alone. Déjà vu tickled Draco, taking him briefly back to 1975 when he and Harry had happened upon Weasley. There with Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, Amos Lestrange, Montgomery Nott, and Felix Avery—was Corban Yaxley.

All six boys looked up as Draco, Harry, and Dippet approached. Riddle and Abraxas sat on one sofa, Nott laid across one, and the other three sat together on the third. Yaxley, Lestrange, and Avery had just been laughing about something. Riddle and Abraxas had books open around them, along with several scrolls of parchment.

"Good morning, lads," Dippet greeted them. "We have some guests at the school today. These are Jules Winnfield and Vincent Vega. They're from the Department of Mysteries."

Draco dipped his chin at all of them. Their curiosity seemed to grow.

"They're here investigating the attacks that have happened," Dippet carried on. "Tom, I told them that you had been the one to discover Ms Cooper. They would like to speak with you, if that's all right."

"That's fine," Riddle spoke in a serious tone edging toward solemn. "Anything I can do to help."

He started closing up books.

"Actually, we wouldn't mind speaking with your friends here, as well," Draco said. "The more heads we can put together, the better."

"If you're all right with it," Harry asked Dippet, following along.

"I leave it up to these lads entirely." Dippet took a step away. "You're in good company."

Draco caught an exchange of smug smirks between Lestrange and Avery. Yaxley snorted, but made it sound like a sniffle.

"Of course," Abraxas said. "We'll talk."

Along with the same sharp face and shrewd grey eyes, he shared the cadence and tone of a sixteen-year-old Draco. Draco wondered if Harry noticed, and what he thought to be sitting in a circle with someone who could pass as Draco's teenaged doppelgänger. Abraxas had longer hair than Draco ever did. He had it pulled back, but some strands tucked behind his ear touched his shoulders. Along with Harry noticing the similarities, Draco wondered if Riddle would.

Riddle gestured at the sofa to his left, where Nott was. Nott shifted to get out of the way. "Take a seat."

"Thank you," Draco replied. "Quite the business, isn't it? These attacks?"

Draco let all the Malfoy haughtiness be apparent in his tone, and intentionally mirrored the way Abraxas sat. The muscles around Riddle's eyes twitched toward a narrow before he slid instead into lips pressed with seemingly-sincere concern. He let out a short sigh.

"Yes, it's been a bad year here," Riddle smoothly told them. "We all thought it was over, and then little Marianne Emerson happened last weekend. . ."

"I have to say I'm rather shocked at how little your Headmaster seems to know about these occurrences," Draco said. "The professors, as well. Well, we only met two. Professor Slughorn and Professor Dumbledore."

Riddle shrugged. "That's everyone, though. We're all as clueless as the next person."

The other boys nodded.

"Of course," Draco conceded with a short bow of the head. "It just became clear as to why the Department of Mysteries, of all things, has been requested to weigh in. If there's one thing we've learned through our work, it's that every question has an answer. You just have to know how to ask it."

Draco held Riddle's gaze. He had to commend him for not looking away, or otherwise losing his nerve.

"What sorts of things do Unspeakables even do?" Yaxley asked. "How would you know any better than our professors, or someone like an Auror?"

"You're right that we're not with Enforcement," Draco replied. "In my personal dealings with any sort of Magical Enforcement agent, they have a very difficult time seeing beyond basic moral dichotomies. They're uncomfortable slipping into the mindset of someone who could commit these sorts of acts. There's a capability, certainly, given they must to some extent be able to empathize with whichever criminal they're currently chasing. Some acts go beyond such paltriness, though. It helps to not be particularly interested in prosecution. The Department of Mysteries has always been more satisfied with just knowing, regardless of where that knowledge lands relative to what we have collectively agreed upon to be good or bad."

"Your Headmaster gave us a tour of all the attack locations," Harry added as the six boys turned quiet with thought. "We told him a little white lie when we arrived. He was under the impression that we know nothing about Hogwarts or current events, considering that we aren't originally from Britain. In preparation for the assignment though, we brushed up on some things. We stayed quiet on that to see what the staff was willing to talk about if given opportunity to freely speak their minds—and what they weren't willing to talk about."

Riddle lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. "Dippet kept something from you?"

"He and Dumbledore both touched briefly on prejudices against Muggle-borns, as well as its history within the school in regards to Salazar Slytherin," Harry said. "Neither went as far as to so much as mention the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

Other than Riddle, the boys all exchanged curious looks. Riddle remained passively thoughtful.

"It's only a legend, isn't it?" Riddle asked. "What kind of monster would Slytherin have hid in the school that's capable of Petrifying students? How does it even know Muggle-borns from anyone else?"

"Let's not pretend that Muggle-borns and purebloods have the same smell about them." Draco added a slight sneer for good measure. "To be clear, we aren't insinuating anything about the Chamber of Secrets being the truth of the matter. It was just interesting that Dippet and Dumbledore neglected to mention it."

"I got the impression Dumbledore has some sort of suspicion," Harry said. "He was rather firm when he said he didn't think these attacks had anything to do with Grindelwald."

"They used to know each other, I've heard," Riddle said.

"Is that so?" Draco stood to remove his cape. On top of the common room being quite warm, he shifted toward the next part of his plan. "That's very interesting indeed then, that he would jump so quickly to Grindelwald's defence."

"What exactly did he say?" Riddle asked.

"He said that Grindelwald had some sort of signature," Harry spoke. "He emphasized that, but wouldn't elaborate."

"He has some sort of symbol." Riddle watched Draco lay his cape over the back of the sofa and begin to roll up his jumper sleeves. "It's a line inside of a circle, inside of a triangle."

"Ah," Draco said.

"What's that?" Abraxas asked, pointing at Draco's Dark Mark. "You have a tattoo?"

"Oh—yes." Draco extended his arm when he sat back down so that the boys could all see it. "Do you like it?"

"That's brilliant," Yaxley said. "Where did you get it? Is it magical?"

"It has some magic to it, yes." Draco nodded. "Someone very important gave it to me."

"Like the Minister?" Abraxas tilted his head slightly. "Or your superior, or something? I've never seen anything like that, and my father is always at the Ministry."

"That would be a secret, unfortunately." Draco smirked, and got one in return. "To speak of it would go beyond the scope of what information is allowed to leave the Department of Mysteries."

All of them spare Riddle made sounds of disappointment at that. Draco settled with his back against the sofa and crossed his legs. He and Harry let Abraxas, Yaxley, Nott, Lestrange, and Avery talk themselves out about their own theories on the attacks. Riddle stayed quiet, although contributed if any of the other boys asked his opinion. He occasionally corrected something someone said. Here and there, he pointed out why one theory couldn't possibly be true. They eventually had nothing more to say.

"Well, this has been very enlightening," Draco said when all fell quiet. "Vega and I ought to move along. It would be interesting to hear what other students might say, that might coincide with all that you've told us."

"I sincerely doubt they'll be of any use to you," Abraxas drawled with a long roll of the eyes. "They'll just start naming their least favourite Slytherins as the ones responsible, mark my words."

"We'll take that into account." Draco grabbed his cape off the back of the sofa as he and Harry stood. "Good day, boys."

Only out in the empty corridor did Draco exhale in full. He leaned against the stone wall. Harry mirrored his position beside him.

"Nice touch with the Dark Mark," Harry said. "He seemed to recognize it. Strange the others didn't, although I guess Voldemort was pretty secretive for a lot of his early life."

"You don't get away with the sorts of things he did in his youth until you've some power and influence behind your name. I'm hoping we're not completely done here with him yet." Draco bundled his cape in front of his stomach and smirked. "What did you think of my grandfather?"

"Insufferable little git." Harry fended off a smile. "I had some flashbacks while listening to him go on and on about his-father-this and my-family-that."

Draco shifted closer so that their shoulders touched. "Oh, but isn't he at least a little endearing?"

Harry hummed, sounding unconvinced.

"Not even if you squint?" Draco pressed.

With a scoff, Harry bumped him. "So what now?"

"I've a feeling we'll have company shortly. Voldemort was intrigued, even if he tried to hide it." Draco appraised Harry. "I'm not sure how you feel about this, but he could be of good use."

When Harry hummed again, it was with less certainty. "Maybe we ought to—"

The stone wall concealing the Slytherin common room slid open again. Just as Draco suspected might happen, Riddle emerged. He came to a sudden stop, having seemed ready to go into a run.

While the common room closed off again, Riddle slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. He studied Draco and Harry from a slight distance. Although his gaze was critical, there was a gleam of excitement to his eyes.

"So," Riddle said slowly in a tone that bordered on authoritative. "Who are you really?"

"'Who are we really'?" Draco repeated in a light tone, stalling.

"There's something off about you, and I'm not thick like the others," Riddle persisted, stepping closer. "That Mark on your arm, how did you get it?"

"Do you know something about it?"

"I know I've thought it up." The gleam in Riddle's eyes brightened. "Unless someone stole it out of my mind somehow, it's mine. And you said someone important gave it to you."

"Are you someone important?"

"I don't know," Riddle said. "Am I? Don't talk to me like I'm some idiot. I know time travel is real, and that Unspeakables have access to it. Look."

Riddle reached up to his neck and pulled a chain from under his jumper. At the end of it was the most basic Time Turner available from the Department of Mysteries.

"For my lessons." Riddle turned smug. "I've had it since third year."

Draco forced himself to quickly recover from this revelation. He didn't see much choice but to take lead again, regardless of Harry's concern they might be getting ahead of themselves. "That must come in very handy when you need to be in two places at once—when you need an alibi. Hm?"

The little smirk on Riddle's face receded slightly.

"Oh, don't panic." Draco rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We really aren't here to find out how these attacks are happening. We already know, Mr Slytherin's Heir."

Riddle tucked his Time Turner away. "What are you doing here, then?"

"How about we find somewhere private?" Draco suggested. "There ought to be an empty dungeon nearby."

The nearest one appeared so. Harry went quickly into ensuring that to be true with detection spells, and then followed them up with privacy enchantments. His cheek quirked toward a smile in a hairpin exchange of glances.

"Let's get to the matter then, shall we?" Draco addressed Riddle. "We're here because we need to speak with you. My real name is Draco Malfoy, and this is Harry Potter. We've come from the year 2011."

Riddle's eyebrows leapt at that. "2011? Why?"

"That's a bit complicated."

"Is it?" Harry asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow, but Harry looked certain enough for Draco to yield with an inviting gesture of the hand.

Harry turned to Riddle. "You don't recognize my name at all, do you?"

"I know the Potter name," Riddle replied. "You're pure-blooded, even if you're not one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"Here's the thing," Harry said. "I kill you in 1998."

Riddle said nothing.

"Given thirteen years to think about it. . ." Harry shrugged. "I wasn't hardly any older than you are now. I'd yet to turn eighteen. Do you know what that was like, to be raised to think that Voldemort was the enemy just because he challenged everything the wizarding world pretended to stand for? Do you want to know what happened after you were defeated?"

Still, Riddle remained quiet.

"Nothing." Harry stepped up in front of him. "Everything went back to the way it was before. Goblins still don't have wands. Centaurs are still considered Beasts by the Ministry. Giants are still all off on their own. The number of pure-blooded wizards is dwindling, and the wizarding world is starting to look more like the Muggle-born world."

Riddle studied him very seriously for a long moment. "You're here to change it."

Harry nodded.

"What happens now that could?" Riddle asked. "Why did you come this far into the past? Why not just go back to 1998 and stop yourself?"

"Seventeen-year-old me wouldn't have been open to the idea." Harry returned to where Draco sat on the edge of a table, and mirrored his position. "I was rather zealous at that age, and very steeped in propaganda. It took this long to step back from it."

"We opted for a more subtle approach," Draco said as Riddle stepped up in front of them. "There's someone here that betrays you down the line. He needs to be removed."

"Who?" Riddle immediately replied.

"Corban Yaxley."

Draco would have thought Riddle could go no more serious than he already had. He almost aged as that information took root. Lines appeared on his forehead and around his mouth.

"Yaxley," he repeated.

Draco nodded. In the heavy silence that fell, Riddle bowed his chin as he thought.

"You're telling me I have to kill him," Riddle finally said.

"No." Draco tried not to deny that too quickly. "He needs to be removed."

"What's the difference?" Riddle's affect had gone flat. "I don't have to do it myself. The basilisk can. Yaxley would never be found in the Chamber."

"We need to take him." Harry remained steadfast. "There are things we can't tell you, otherwise the future will change. You make a move too soon, and you'll be struck down a lot earlier than my go at you. Something significant will happen in two years, and then you'll understand. Think bigger."

Shockingly to Draco, Riddle didn't sneer at Harry's stern tone. He went back to thinking, tapping his fingers against his leg. A cold little smile came up on his lips, and any light in his eyes extinguished.

"I could frame him for the attacks, I suppose," Riddle said. "You said he's to be removed. Does that mean his body won't be left behind?"

"We'll be taking him with us, yes," Draco confirmed.

Riddle started to pace with folded arms. Eventually, he came to a new stop. "What did Dippet say to you about me?"

"He clearly thinks a lot of you," Harry replied. "He said you were the last person he'd suspect to have any involvement in all this. He's concerned he might have to close the school if there are anymore attacks. He said that you wouldn't want that to happen. Even when you didn't really react to finding that girl down here, he said you're just stoic."

"Do you think he'd believe me if I told him Yaxley confessed that he was behind the attacks?" Riddle shifted in demeanour, his eyes wide and his breath heavy. "'Those Unspeakables knew what he'd done, Professor. He said he didn't want to go to Azkaban, and he was in a really strange way about himself. I don't know where he went. He stunned me, and he was gone when I came to.'"

Draco smirked. "It's been so long since I saw you, my Lord, I almost forgot how brilliant you are."

"Even so young," Harry added. "No wonder everyone thought you had to go."

"Yes, well." Although he made a minor attempt at humbleness, pride still oozed from Riddle in the way he nonchalantly shrugged. "It doesn't seem so grandiose anymore to say I know I'm meant for something great."

"It's not, but remember what I said about moving too quickly," Harry replied. "Patience."

"Yes, yes." Riddle waved a dismissive hand at him. "I know all about patience. When does all of this happen with Yaxley?"

"We'll have to sort out the details," Draco said. "You're fully all right with him being gone?"

"If he's going to get in the way, then why would I want him around?" Riddle went cold again. "My other friends might miss him, but oh well. They'll get over it."

"They will." Draco shrugged. "We'll keep in touch, then. We'll tell Dippet that we see promise in sorting this out after talking to your group. That should plant the seed for when you tell him Yaxley cracked."

"All right."

Harry pushed himself up off the table. "We can trust you not to give anything away by acting off?"

That little smile that didn't quite reach Riddle's eyes was back. "It's like you said, Potter. Patience. Right?"